Friday, January 31, 2014

Big Brother is Watching

If you've been here awhile, you may remember the audiologist who put my hearing aids into her computer and said "Well, I can't scold you for not wearing them. You've been using them about 10 hours a day." I was shocked. Shocked. My own little hearing aids are spying on me! For all we know, they've been relaying my conversations to the FBI. And then I received a routine email from the University's research department, with the usual list of studies that are looking for subjects. It's an interesting way to feel one is doing something useful. Norm and I helped develop the shingles vaccine some years ago, I've taken part is several other studies, and I'm in one that, as it happens, gives me yearly reassurance that I'm still passing the tests so I don't have Alzheimers. Blunders or no blunders. (No, I did not have that eye exam today, and I don't want to talk about it.) So when I saw a request for subjects to explore a new treatment for arthritis of the hip, I thought it sounded perfect. Now pay attention closely. On the Internet, I was asked five questions: my name, age, phone number, did I have arthritis in my hip, and had I seen a doctor about it? THAT WAS ALL. The screen said someone would call to discuss whether I was eligible for the study, and indeed, a cordial young woman phoned me within a half hour. She thanked me for volunteering and said unfortunately I don't qualify because I am taking Plavix. HOW DID SHE KNOW? Okay, now to today's mail. A retirement community wishes me a happy birthday, and invites me and a companion to their February birthday luncheon. With entertainment.

HOW DO THEY KNOW MY NAME? HOW DO THEY KNOW I'M OLD? HOW DO THEY KNOW MY BIRTHDAY? It's scary. Buy hey, who says there's no free lunch? I'll let you know if they serve birthday cake.

Well, another reason J.D. Salinger has no credit cards and no Internet use is that he's been dead since 2010. But, on the other hand, it looks as if we may have to accept Big Brother as the price of continued existence. "The grave's a fine and private place/But none, I think, there interface" (with apologies to Andrew Marvell).

Dear Eve,When I invited you to lunch I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a celebrity! I'm so happy to have met you today. I did some digging for you and found that we got your information from an event or seminar that you attended in Webster. I hope to see you at our Sweet Escapes Open House this weekend! It is from 2-330.I hope to see you again soon, and let me know about Facebook- my treat ; )Warm Regards,Jess Chappell

About Me

Okay. For starters, I'm 91 now, but I'm not changing the blog title. This is my 6th year of blogging. This being old is interesting. If I start telling you what it's like, understand, I AM NOT WHINING. it's more along the lines of -- I feel like an anthropologist exploring a new world -- Margaret Mead telling you what life is like on New Guinea. (If you're old, you have heard of her. If you aren't, you're welcome here anyhow.)